Ever wondered what goes through a Labello stickjes’ mind when you viciously use one of us to moisturize your lips? Most people’s answer to that question would be: “Wait, who in their right fucking mind thinks Labello has the ability to feel anything, let alone be able to think?!”. Well, as a Labello stickje myself, I am currently giving all of you the middle-finger with my non-existent fingers.
Okay, I think we got off to a wrong start. Let me introduce myself before I start flipping you off again. My name is Larry, and I am dead. Just in case your puny little brains have not registered that yet: Yes, I am a speaking, dead, pissed off little Labello stickje.
I’ve been dead for 45 years, which is around 15 seconds in human time. Oh, just as a side note, I killed myself. What led to my eventual suicide? Well, it all started off in 1981, the year I was born.